


Splish-Splash

by Selkie_de_Suzie



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Family Feels, Feels, First Time Parents, Fluff, MagicalStranger13, Swimming, Warm and Tender Moments, bathtime, butterfly bog, butterfly bog babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 16:17:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7808641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selkie_de_Suzie/pseuds/Selkie_de_Suzie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Royal Family of the Dark Forest introduces their boy to the joys of outdoor bathing…</p>
<p>A birthday gift for by MagicalStranger13, and inspired by their wonderful Strange Magic fanfics and original characters!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Splish-Splash

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MagicalStranger13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicalStranger13/gifts).



> This fanfic is a belated birthday present to the incomparable MagicalStranger13 - HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HONEY! I *so* adore their fanfics, especially those concerning their OC, Bog and Marianne’s adorable son Rock. With permission, I was able to feature him in this fanfic, which is pretty much a love letter to the world they created and family feels…
> 
> Once again, Rock is MagicalStranger13's creation, NOT MINE. I am deeply honored and grateful to have been granted permission to write about him here. Since this is about MagicalStranger13's take on the world of Strange Magic, there will be some references to events that happened in their fanfics, not mine. Special mention goes to their fanfic "Would It Be A Sin?", which just has so happens to be one of the *steamiest fanfics* I have ever had the pleasure of reading…
> 
> Once again, MagicalStranger13, please accept my endless gratitude for letting me play with your dearly beloved characters! 
> 
> Enjoy!

The stream gurgled and sang with the same limpid beauty with which the sun spangled upon its burbling surface, bright and merry and soothing. Its song was one that entreated all weary wanderers to its banks, inviting fingers to curl into the tide and tug of the stream’s pull, dip feet into the chill splendor that seemed all the more inviting on such a sultry Summer’s day. 

Any creature, Goblin or Fairy, would relish such a simple, sweet joy. 

The Bog Prince of the Dark Forest was not so convinced. 

Rock eyed the babbling flow of water doubtfully, a pucker twisting between his young brow before he curled himself further into his father’s arms, a stubborn set to his mouth.  _“Won’t.”_

“Sweetie, it will make you feel better,” Marianne coaxed, stroking a hand over her son’s dark, wiry thatch of hair, the heat of his tiny skull pressing up into her palm. “You’ve been to the brook before, haven’t you? Remember when Grandma took you, and you had so much fun playing in the water?” 

“Playing in the  _mud,”_  Bog corrected, shifting the young Prince so that he wasn’t clinging so close to his neck. There was snuggling with Rock, and then there was suffocation. He looked down at his son and arched a leafy brow, the tender merriment of his bright blue eyes at odds with his great, exaggerated scowl, his fangs bared. “Daddy had to clean him up when he fetched him, didn’t he?” 

Rock’s determinedly jutting lower lip loosed as he giggled at his father’s fierce face, which he batted at with tiny hands. Bog’s mock scowl didn’t stand a chance, instead focusing his attentions on grabbing one of Rock’s hands to press a multitude of kisses upon it, the action muffling his voice considerably.  _“Ye wee beastie.”_

Marianne watched them affectionately, a tender sigh just behind her teeth. God, but Bog was such a  _natural_  as a father. So fiercely protective of his son to any and all who dared to pose even the slightest threat, so endlessly patient and loving in caring for him. She had thought Bog displayed a tender side with her, but that was  _nothing_  to what their son brought out in him. God, he positively  _doted_ on Rock. To think that some of the Fairy Court had fretted over whether or not the dark and dour King could summon up enough gentleness for their Queen’s newborn babe…!

The urge to smack them for such insulting doubts had been replaced by the urge to laugh. For now, Marianne contented herself with a smile, her lips curving as she knotted the mid-length skirt of her dress further up, the dark pink carnation petals rustling as she began to wade into the water of the stream, savoring the coolness on her sore soles. If they had no idea of the sheer endless lovingness that lurked beneath those scales and spikes, their loss…

Said lovingness and patience were getting very good use today. The Royal Family of the Dark Forest had been having a wonderful time venturing through the Forest, what with Griselda insisting they take the opportunity to make Bog’s usual rounds into a picnic. Rock had been wild with excitement to go on adventure with Mama and Daddy, and had insisted on forgoing the usual mode of transportation of either of them carrying him in favor of keeping up as quick as his little legs would let him, determined to walk like a big boy. 

However, as the day wore on and the sun filtered green-gold through the leaves, the warm beams baking the earth had made Rock positively wilt, the combined effects of heat and exhaustion taking a toll. The layer of grime and dust from the path hadn’t helped at all, and his striking wings were now dulled and drooping, and when Bog had scooped him up, Rock had given no protest, sleepily content to nuzzle his head into the crook of his father’s neck. 

That had changed when Mama had decided that going all the way back to the Castle to wash up before lunch was  _silly_  and that having a dip in the nearby stream would be fine. 

Rock now clung to Bog as with the tenacity of a burr, sleepiness transformed into wary stubbornness, wings rustling and eyes narrowing. Marianne bit back a sigh as she turned back to them, water lapping at her ankles. She should have known he would react so – like any child, Rock found routines to be comforting, and he had only ever had his baths at the Castle, and even his rare washes over at the Fairy Kingdom had been met with trepidation. 

And no one could put up a greater fuss then their son when he was robbed of his routines, especially if he was already hot and tired… 

Marianne blew a bit of hair out of her eyes before holding out her hands to him, coaxing and hopeful. “Rocky, maybe we could play in the mud a bit before we wash up. That would be nice, yeah?” 

“No mud,” Rock stated, squirming in Bog’s arms, restless but not wanting to relinquish his hold. A bit of a whine entered his voice.  _“Hungry.”_

“I bet you are, honey, but first we got to wash up. Then Mama and Daddy can set out the food that Grandma made for—”

_“Won’t!”_  Rock finally let go of his father’s neck to cross his arms and glower at his mother, his wings twitching in temper and his eyes narrowed mutinously. “Won’t wash! Won’t wash  _there!”_

Marianne bit back a sigh, taking in the sulky scowl her son wore, the amber-gold of his eyes gleaming with a new luster born from the fierce determination in them, and had a brief moment to wonder if her own parents had felt the same mix of emotions when dealing with her fits of temper – torn between marveling at how  _beautiful_  their child was and utter exasperation that it was  _anger_  that was being worn so well. Rock was such an even tempered, sweet boy that it always caught her off guard when he showed that flash of fire and stubbornness. 

To be fair, he came by it honestly. She was pretty sure if her father could see her now there would be a none-too-subtle comment concerning  _payback_.

She dropped her arms with a sigh, passing a hand over her face tiredly, and Bog gave her a sympathetic look before turning his gaze to his son, bouncing him slightly. “Rock, why don’t you want to wash there?” 

Rock furrowed his brow, torn between defiance and misery. “Don’  _wike_  it,” he muttered fiercely, sending a scowl its way.  _“Wock don’ wike it.”_

Bog swiftly ducked his head while Marianne clapped her hands to her face once more, any exasperation disappearing as both parents desperately tried to muffle their laughter. It wasn’t uncommon for small children to have trouble with their R’s and L’s, nor to speak about themselves in third person. It just so happened that Rock had combined all of them in a result that was equal parts heart-achingly adorable and hilarious. But Rock would be tremendously hurt if it came off as laughing  _at_  him, so they had to be careful. 

Marianne quickly schooled her expression into something more stoic and, hoping that Rock wouldn’t notice how Daddy was still sniggering, bent to the water, careful to not let the tips of her wings drag in it as she dipped her hands in. She straightened, holding out her cupped hands so that Rock could see the water dribbling merrily between her fingers. “Sweetie, you just haven’t had a chance to try it! Once you do, you’ll probably like it. It can be a part of our adventure, how about that?” 

Rock no longer sported a scowl, but there was still unease in his expression as he took in his mother and the great show she was making of enjoying the water. Marianne’s heart gave a little throb—their boy was a sound split between boldness and bashfulness, tenacity and timidity. Rock was cautious when it came to new things, exploring things with an almost methodical intent, eyes wide and wary one moment and then narrowing in examination the next. 

Yet as soon as he decided he was comfortable with something, any nervous restraint melted like mist before the morning sun. Then he was his mother’s son, having a grand old time on yet another adventure…

And if he could have an adventure with  _her_ …

Bog, recovered from his bout of laughter, nuzzled at his boy’s hair and sent an affectionate smirk his wife’s way. “Yer mummy looks like she’s havin’ a grand time with tha’ adventure.” 

Despite himself, Rock leaned closer for a better look, and Marianne grinned at him before bending to the stream once again, splashing her hands back and forth in the crystal clear coldness. “Look, honey! Splish splash!” 

Rock gave a sweet little burble of a laugh, but Bog cocked at his head, bewildered.  _“Splish splash?”_

Marianne straightened, shaking her hands, the water droplets flying from her fingers spattering her dress. “Yeah, y’know… _splish splash, I was takin’ a bath?”_

Bog’s brow furrowed in further in bewilderment. “Is tha’ a… _poem_ , or somethin’?” 

Marianne put a hand on the nape of her neck, the damp, cool press of her palm a relief what with how the sun was still beaming down on them. “A song. Goblins don’t have that one?” 

Bog shrugged, scales crackling. “Goblins don’t really _have_  baths.” 

Marianne smirked, quite sure that he had intended his explanation to be entirely innocent. It was true that baths were more favored by fairies, but that didn’t mean that goblins didn’t  _bathe._  They simply took showers instead. She should know, she had caught Bog in the midst of few of them, and oh  _skies_ , the sight alone had been a flint to a fire only  _he_  could send scorching through her…

Bog blinked at the increasingly lascivious look she was aiming at him before the light of realization dawned. His eyes then narrowed, a wicked gleam to them, and his mouth curled in a smirk that had a decidedly smoldering edge to it. Maybe  _they_  could put the stream to use later on if Rock wasn’t going to—

But then Rock was squirming, wriggling as free as he could get from Bog’s arms, and the king of the Dark Forest hastened to set the young Prince down, sharp cheeks burning with a blush, and Marianne smoothed her hands over her dress to dry them as she soundly and silently berated herself for letting lust distract her so. 

Rock paid neither of them any mind as he edged closer to the water, definite curiosity in his small face though his wings continued to twitch warily. He stopped where the water eddied and flowed along the bank, cocking his head to the side, the gesture so very much like his father’s that Marianne almost let out an  _aww_. 

Tentatively, but with a decided air of determination, their son reached down to the water and dipped his hands into the flow of it, wiggling his fingers around a bit before looking up at his mother, expression cautious and questioning. “Spwish-spwash?” 

Marianne bit down on a giggle and smiled at her little boy encouragingly, wading closer to him. “Splish-splash, honey. Take off your shoes and wade a little like Mama, it will feel good on your feet!”

Rock’s brows knitted and he warily looked over his shoulder at his father for confirmation. But when Bog merely sat down on a nearby mossy rock and nodded at his son with equal encouragement, Rock plopped down onto the bank and tugged off the shoes that Auntie Dawn had made specially for his half Fairy, half Goblin feet. Tossing them aside, Rock took a deep breath and cautiously poked a foot into the stream, his shoulders stiff and his small spine straight as he moved out inch by inch into the water, clearly ready for the worst. 

But soon the merry gurgle of the water had him smiling, his beautiful eyes glowing bright, and his sharp little teeth bared themselves at his mother in a joyful smile. “Mama,  _cold!”_

Marianne laughed, delighted and proud. “It sure is, sweetheart! Doesn’t it feel  _good_  after all that sun? You want to wade some more, Rocky?” 

Rock nodded enthusiastically and started to move to her, little legs churning up the water. “Wock gonna wade some mo—”

But at that moment, one of Rock’s bare little feet slipped over some slick pebbles, and he stumbled wildly, his arms waving. Before either of his parents could get to him, Rock splashed down into the stream, landing straight on his rump and leaving his clothes absolutely soaked. 

Wide amber eyes blinked as Rock seemed to register the suddenness of it all. Then his face crumpled up, and Rock tipped his head back to let forth an absolutely heartrending wail.

Bog and Marianne moved at the same time, Bog’s wings buzzing as he flew to his son and Marianne struggling to not stumble herself, her eyes alarmed.  _“Bog, his wings—”_

“Got it.” Bog swiftly scooped up his bawling boy, rubbing soothing circles up and down his back whilst keenly examining Rock’s wings for any damage. Thankfully, though they were damp, the wings were in no way crumpled or torn, free from any lasting damage. While the beauty of them was that of shimmering, delicate glass, Rock’s wings were proving to be quite sturdy indeed, a testament to his unique heritage. 

Bog stroked a gentle set of claws over them just to make sure before nodding, calling back to his wife. “They’re fine! So is he, I think it just scared him more than anythin’ else…” 

Marianne sighed in relief but Rock looked up at his father with tearful eyes and a trembling lower lip. “ _Wet,_  Daddy…” he whimpered. 

Fierce claws carded through damp dark hair gently, and bright blue eyes were fathomless with tenderness as Bog smiled at his son. “Ah know, luv, but yer alrigh’. Ye don’ have ta worry about grownin’ mold or anythin’. In fact—” Bog looked over to stream then began to walk to it, his own feet managing the slick stones quite well, “—how’s about we get yer bath done, now tha’ you took tha’ first plunge—”

Rock let out a squawk of terror and immediately started thrashing about in his father’s arms, his small face panic stricken. “NO NO NO NO, WOCK DON’ WANT,  _WOCK DON’ WANT—!”_

Bog grunted as he grappled with his son, but did not let go. “Rock, c’mon—”

Marianne came closer, concerned. “Bog, give him to me—”

“He’s fine, he just needs to see—”

**_“WON’T!”_**  Rock screamed with all the might the lungs he had inherited from his mother possessed, managing to aim it right into his father’s ear.  _“WOCK WON’T, WOCK WON’T WON’T **WON’T** —!”_

_“ROCK! **Enough!”**_

Rock immediately quieted, eyes wide and limbs stilling at the barked command from his father, though his mouth still trembled, just barely holding back a whimper. 

Despite raising his voice, there was no anger in the gaze Bog fixed his son with, only a stern sincerity. “Rock, if ye keep thrashin’ about like tha’, Daddy might drop ye. Ah don’t want tha’ ta happen, de ye?” 

Rock sniffled and shook his head. 

“Ah know tha’ fall scared ye, and tha’ yer nervous, but Ah also know tha’  _nothin’_  is gonna hurt as long as yer with Mummy and Daddy.” 

Rock gnawed on a lip but seemed to accept this logic. Small as he was, he knew enough about the world to know that parents were for  _protecting_. 

Bog’s stern stare softened, and he stroked his hand over his boy’s dark thatch of hair. “Rock, ye know tha’ Daddy and Mummy would  _never_  make ye do somethin’ tha’ they thought might be dangerous to ye, right?”

Rock nodded. This was very true. Mama and Daddy could get  _very_  scary if anything or anyone tried to hurt him. Both of them had  _very_ good snarls. 

Pleased with his son’s quiet acceptance, Bog began to move with slow deliberation, wading deeper and deeper into the water, still keeping a tight hold of his boy. “Daddy won’t let go, Rock, see? Daddy’s got ye, an’ Mama’s right there too…”

“I’m right here, Rocky,” Marianne affirmed, though she secretly hoped she wouldn’t be asked to follow Bog to such depths. While the water of the stream wouldn’t ruin or damage her wings like rain could, it still didn’t mean she  _liked_  having them wet. 

However, soaked wings or not, she would  _die_  before she let anything happen to her child. But for now, she knew he was safe and sound. 

She smiled with no small amount of tenderness at the Goblin who was cradling their baby so gently. “You’re alright, sweetheart. Daddy’s got you.” 

A hint of a blush flushed across Bog’s cheeks as he gave her soft, bashful smile before focusing back on their son, grasping him more solidly whilst wading deeper into the water till it hit him mid chest. Rock gave a fearful whimper, but Bog was quick to give him a nuzzle, murmuring soothingly. “Ye’re alright, Rock, ye’re fine…” 

Marianne savored the sight they made, her husband and her son, both of them so alike and yet so wonderfully _different_. Bog continued to speak in soothing, low tones to Rock as he scooped up water with his free hand and poured it over his child’s head, let it dribble over his arms, his own wings dragging gently through the water. 

Rock, meanwhile, was wide eyed and enraptured as he took in the stream, kicking his little feet into the water so that it rippled around him. He giggled, the noise making Marianne’s heart melt. “Spwish-spwash, Daddy!” 

Bog chuckled. “Splish-splash, Rock. My brave boy.” 

Marianne felt that there was an increasing danger of her turning into a sentimental mess if she didn’t get a hold of herself and do something besides watch them with a soppy grin on her face. Thus decided, she waded over to them, her smile equal parts tender and mischievous. “Does Wock wike it now?”

Bog’s lips twitched suspiciously even as he rolled his eyes at her, but Rock merely nodded his head, looking very content indeed to remain in his father’s arms and cool off. “Wock wike it.” 

Then, quick as a hawk after a hare, he slapped the water, sending a spray to Marianne. “SPWISH-SPWASH, MAMA!” 

Marianne shrieked as the water hit her, tumbling back and soaking both her wings and her dress. Bog and Rock threw their heads back in laughter, though for Rock it was more in delight at how he managed to surprise Mama then at the spectacle she made.  

Marianne righted herself as best as she could, shaking out her wings and pushing back her sopping hair futilely. She tried to scowl but skies, all she wanted to do was laugh – it was too darn hot for the cool spray of water to be anything but a relief. God, but Rock could be  _such_  a mischief maker! She would have blamed it on his Goblin blood if she didn’t know her own propensity for wickedness. 

Speaking of which…

Bog managed to get a hold of himself and looked at his Queen, a traitorous grin still lurking at his mouth. “Ye alright, Tough Girl?”

She looked at him from beneath her brows, her smile slow and positively evil. “Oh, I  _will_  be,  _almighty Bog King.”_

“What d’ye mean—?” 

Marianne kicked a huge wave of water to him, laughing with equal parts exhilaration and wickedness. “SPLISH-SPLASH!” 

Bog yelped as the water hit him, trying to shield Rock as best he could, but the little Prince merely shrieked with glee. “ _SPWISH-SPWASH!”_

War thus declared, the Royal Family of the Dark Forest spent the next hour in one of the mightiest splash fights the Forest had ever seen. 

* * *

A few hours later, Rock was happily munching away at one of the sandwiches Grandma had packed, his clawed tiny toes wriggling into the mossy picnic blanket and his wings spread out to dry, gleaming with incomparable iridescence as the sun fell across them. 

Marianne and Bog watched him contentedly before he leaned his head back in her lap with a satisfied, rumbling sigh. “If more baths were like tha’, Ah don’ think goblins would mind them so…” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Marianne hummed, petting his head, tracing the leafy scales of his scalp. Her smile was sweet, but her eyes were smoky with sin. “I can think of a  _lot_ of benefits to showers…” 

Bog chuckled and looked up at her, taking in how the damp petals of her dress still clung to her form, how the amber eyes she had passed onto their boy glowed like hot honey. Gods, but she was  _his_. His Queen. His wife. The mother of his child. 

His Tough Girl. 

Claws curled at her fingers to lace with them, and the blue that looked up into amber was all the more bright with love, and Bog’s craggy mouth split into a smile. “Who would have thought our first proper spar with Rock would be over a  _bath?”_

“I think that’s true for most parents,” Marianne laughed, looking over at their boy affectionately. “Though I’m pretty sure no kid has a battle cry like his.” 

At that moment, Rock finished up his sandwich and looked over his shoulder to see his parents watching him. He smiled and waved at them, cool and clean from the stream.  _“Spwish-spwash!”_

Bog and Marianne didn’t even try to hide their laughter this time, and Rock was only too happy to join in.


End file.
